Tag Archives: capitalism

Global Tax Code

Okay. I’ve had it. This has been stewing in my mind long enough. I’m just going to say it.

Here’s the deal:  There’s a global market, but there’s no global polity. The UN is a forum for discussion, but not a re-distributor of wealth. It can’t systematically ensure justice. Cosmetically, maybe. As a band-aid polity, at best. But it’s not a polity.  It’s not a government.

Government, among other things, aims to ensure the fair distribution of resources. We live in a world where those in power agree that markets–and their careful political management–are the best way to distribute resources. This dogma is fine, I guess. Whether or not we like it, it’s not going anywhere.

But we need to think more politically in a global market context. Polity must catch up with markets. Injustice reigns otherwise.

We need a global tax code. We can’t have countries going around doing whatever the hell they want without paying into some kind of institution that at least aims to ensure equal distribution of the global social product.

Nations do this, sort of. Unfortunately, in terms of markets, nations haven’t meaningfully existed for some time. The global nation, whose only common culture is price fluctuation and exchange, has existed for a long time, but we haven’t given the strength it needs to play its proper role.

It’s not a question of whether this global nation exists. It’s a question of making it functional so we don’t destroy each other.

What’s does a polity look like for a nation whose culture is price and exchange? A tax code.

Here’s my proposal. It’s called “The Average is Best.”

Using some globally recognized measure of asset value (GDP is probably best), countries should be taxed according to their asset value’s variance from the world median average of that value.

The country with the median GDP pays no taxes. Countries that have more than the median pay a credit to the global polity proportionate to that excessive variance (the difference between the median GDP and the country’s GDP). Countries that have less than the median go into debt to the global polity proportionate to that deficient variance (again, same proportion, only this time it’s a debt, not a credit).

Wealth is redistributed according to the credits and debts: the money that countries over the median GDP pay to the global polity goes toward the debts of the countries under the median GDP. The global polity determines what amounts go to what countries based on other dimensions of need, such as those reported in the Human Development Index. Countries under the median use that money to pay back their debt by the next global fiscal year. If they don’t, the debt rolls over to the next year. Etc.

For example, here is the CIA World Factbook list of GDP by country from 2010. There are 216 countries reporting GDP on this list. The 108th country is Nepal, with a GDP  of US$15,840. The first country is the U.S. with a GDP of US$14,660,000. Here’s how much the U.S. would pay the global polity:

14660000 – 15,840 = US$14,644,160

The second country is China, with a GDP of US$5,878,000. They’d pay the global polity US$5,862,160.

On the opposite end of the spectrum is the last country, Niue. They’re GDP is US$10. Here’s what they owe the global polity:

15840 – 10 = US$15, 830.

Niue owes the global polity $15, 830. The amount collected by the polity from the countries in excess of the median will be funneled to Niue, and countries like it, in order that they may pay their debt. If they can’t pay it by the end of the next fiscal year, their debt rolls over. Whatever they couldn’t pay goes back to the polity. They try again.

There. I said it. What does anyone think?

How did this happen?

Okay. So I’ve taken a break from literary stuff recently to focus on literacy. My own literacy. About finance. The 2008 financial crisis and OWS and everything has gotten me into the general ugliness of bureaucratic things and I want to fucking write about it. I’ve been studying history and economics with a small group of OWSers and at our last meeting we decided to each bring something to the group that relates to the question “how did this happen?” I’m going to bring this blog post. Consider it a term paper. Or something.The first thing we read in our group was part of the 2010 Senate subcommittee report on the financial crisis that came out of Carl Levin’s office. It’s awesome. Particularly the introduction. It says there (among other things) that banks and other financial companies treated their own clients as fucking counter-parties. They took people’s money, said “oh yeah, we’ll help you” and then used it to bet against them to make more money for themselves.Counterparties.

Turns out we encourage this: experiencing other people’s pain as pleasure. Some sadistic shit. Like, your mom gets cancer, can’t work, can’t pay her mortgage, and some meathead in a skyscraper is betting other meatheads (actually, the meathead is watching a machine bet other meatheads’ machines) that your mom won’t make her mortgage payment. The meathead is also buying insurance from other meatheads for himself just in case she does so that even if he loses his bet that your mom’s life will be fucked he’ll be in the black.

Always be in the fucking black. Always.

Our group discussed that for awhile. But then we got interested in how this happened historically. How did this moral horseshit become legal?

A friend mentioned a bill called the Glass-Steagall Act and sent us an article on it. Basically, our economy already went through this whole financial wasteland about 100 years ago (oh yeah, 1929, right…) when banks got into insurance and securities trading and became so big and interconnected with everyone’s money that it was dangerous for everyone. Glass-Steagall, passed in 1933, made it illegal for banks to get into that stuff. Put banking, securities, and insurance in “separate rooms.” But we couldn’t handle that. No. Over the next 60 years we picked at the scab, trying to let banks get big again and make more fucking money. There were commies! Chinese! We had to compete! Buy! Sell! Go! Now! Ahhhhh!

More fucking money. We need that shit. Seriously. Can’t breathe without it.

We finally ripped the rest of the scab off in 1999 when Phil Gramm, voted one of the 25 people to blame for the crisis, got a 90-8 vote in the Senate and a 362-57 vote in the House to full undo Glass-Steagall. He wanted to “modernize” our financial institutions. He wanted to deregulate. So banks could compete.

A few senators had their shit together at the time and basically prophesized what would happen. Byran Dorgan was the most badass, saying that the government would need to bail the bankers out and the public would lose all kinds of money just because some people wanted to make money. He gave this fucking incredible example from the 1987 Savings and Loans crisis:

Let me describe the ultimate perversion, the hood ornament of stupidity. The U.S. government owned nonperforming junk bonds in the Taj Mahal Casino. Let me say that again. The U.S. Government ended up owning nonperforming junk bonds in the Taj Mahal casino in Atlantic City. How did that happen? The savings and loans were able to buy junk bonds. The savings and loans went belly up. The junk bonds were not performing. And the U.S. Government ended up [having to buy] those junk bonds.

Fucking casinos. We have government casinos.
Dorgan went on to say that, around ten years from that moment (1999) we’d probably have to do the same damn thing and it would be the public paying for it…

Now imagine this: as tax dollars are spent buying casinos, hundreds of bank lobbyists pull up to Capitol Hill, the security guards checking their credentials. Citbank lobbyists and Bank of America lobbyists. Merrill Lynch and Morgan Stanley. All in all, $187.2 million from 1989-1999 went to legislators from people who wanted Gramm’s bill to pass. Russell Feingold said, “Lobbyists lined the halls outside the room where the conference met to reconcile the House and Senate versions of bill…that is standard procedure on Capitol Hill.”

Lo and behold, the bill passed 90-8 in the Senate, 362-57 in the house. That’s not just the number of people who took lobbying money and/or cowed to political threats from their PACs and parties and/or thought it was a nice idea to deregulate. That’s all the people in this country who elected these people to do all these things. Those numbers are everyone deciding all together to screw ourselves and everyone else to make some cash. And, let me say, it was the liberals that wanted to keep the old policies in place. Be conservative, said the progressives.

What the fuck does anything mean anymore.

So yeah, the conservative-progressives were right. Ten years went by and we had huge banks getting huger, taking on more risk, and fucking growing until no one knew what the fuck anyone was thinking anymore and the housing crisis happened. The government–which, by the way, is just you and me and everyone we know–bailed them out. And we basically handed Europe a hot steaming bowl of shit and said “Enjoy!” Now the commies really will bring us down. They own so much of our debt–the socialist-commie bastards–that if they fail then so do we.

It’s like we want to fucking die. Reading about this shit makes me think of people who want to kill themselves.

We’re getting to the end of this, I promise. Our OWS group discussed the history behind this ‘counterparty’ stuff with Glass-Steagall, but we still wanted to know: what’s the big idea here? What’s the ideology that makes this policy real? It’s not just legal. It’s not just lawmakers and lobbyists getting together and perpetually thinking to themselves “let’s just try to make a shit ton of money and fuck ourselves and our friends in the process.” There’s a fucking zeitgeist at work here.

The book that I think speaks the truth about the history of capitalism is Karl Polanyi’s The Great Transformation. It fucking rocks. There’s a part in there called “The Birth of the Liberal Creed” where he talks about a debate in the 1830s in England. (England invented all this shit, bee tee dubs.)

After they pretty much fabricated the three basic commodities–land, labor, capital–by looking at the world and saying “Oh yeah, I’m gonna use you real good,” they had things like unemployment and poverty to deal with. They also had these factories that they called the Satanic Mills. Yeah. Satanic Mills.
Anyway, the question in 1830 was: do we keep legislation to help protect people from the market? Is it better to threaten people with starvation and poverty or should we provide some kind of safety net? Should government be a mommy or a daddy?

Thing is, they’d tried that one time. Back in 1782 they tried giving out bread and subsidizing farmlands that got hit hard by price fluctuations. It was called the Speenhamland system. It didn’t work so well. So Edmund Burke and David Ricardo and a bunch of utilitarians cited that failure in the 1830 debate and they decided to be daddies. No protection. No safety net. They conjured images of Robinson Crusoe. Rugged individualism and all that. They amended the Poor Laws to help the “victims of improvement” (poor people) get back on their feet. How?

By not having any Poors Laws and telling them: if you don’t find a job and work and make money for yourself, no one will be here to help you. Sorry.

Polanyi says this was the birth of the ‘bootstraps’ mentality. It’s still around, you know. When people like Phil Gramm try to “modernize” our institutions by deregulating them and unleashing market forces on us while we’re just trying to get through our fucking lives every day–that’s the utilitarians speaking from 1830, being our Cultural Daddy, saying “No one is going to help you. You have to do it yourself. Being human means surviving and taking what you can when you can to provide for yourself and who you care about and fuck everyone else…” Of course this idea goes back to Adam Smith, who said that the division of labor and the social product are what’s most important when running a society; that regulation causes real disorder; that markets and exchanging are “natural” for humans…blah blah blah. The big idea is: it’s better in the long run for everyone if no one helps or cares about anyone unless they make you money.

Anyway. This has gone on too long already–both what you’re reading (if you’re still reading) and what it’s about. I’m still trying to fucking figure it out. If you have any ideas, let me know.

A Problem: Polanyi Defeaters

Let’s say there are two ways to understand the world: materially and spiritually.

Material understanding thinks in real, practical, commoditized, gain-oriented, market-going, exchange-valued, utilitized, consequence-based, pragmatic, luxurious, wanting, surplus-seeking, growth-inducing, ambition-promoting, what-can-I-get-for-X terms. Generally, material understanding sees the world economically.

Spiritual understanding thinks in ideal, divine, ascetic, use-valued, subsistence-seeking, need-based, balanced, sustainable, transcendence-promoting, virtuous, appreciation-of-X-for-its-own-sake terms. Generally, spiritual understanding sees the world socially-religiously-aesthetically.

A Polanyi defeater poses an epistemological problem for those that think they can understand spiritual statements. Karl Polanyi argues in The Great Transformation that the market system has been embedded in our social relationships since the Industrial Revolution; literally, that our society is an economy, wherein we interact with one another economically and not socially. If this is true then it seems relevant to wonder if our language, the expression of our social relationships, has been similarly affected by the market system. I think it has.

In a market any statement is understood economically. We explain and understand what we mean when we speak in terms of gain and exchange. If we accept that the market system is embedded in our social relationships, and language is an expression thereof, then we must understand or explain every statement economically. Furthermore if language constitutes our thought in some essential way, then by extension our thought is economic in nature–founded in material gain and exchange.

This is a problem. If it’s true, then I can never truly understand or express, rationally or irrationally, any spiritual statement. For every spiritual explanation I can give of a statement I can produce a Polanyi defeater explaining it materially. Any statement about truth, beauty, friendship, love, virtue, or justice can be expressed in terms of material gain and exchange. I can try to understand a spiritual statement, but since understanding requires thought, and thought is economic, then any attempt to do so will fail. And since language is the expression of social relationships, then this holds for anyone that speaks the language I do.

Granted, language is an historical artifact. Another language may be safe from the Polanyi defeaters depending on its history. But given the extent of globalization from early colonial imperialism up through our own contemporary  neo-colonial cultural imperialism, the chances of finding or generating such a language are slim. Even if I do find such a language there’s little hope, if I translate it into mine–try to understand it in terms of my own–the possibility of spirituality disappears immediately. Materiality is built into the fundament of my thought. The structure of my consciousness is material and market-oriented. No matter what I do, so long as I’m thinking, I can’t be spiritual.

For example: “Lily is my friend because she enjoys my company.”

Whether or not this is true, I cannot know whether the statement refers to some deep, spiritual feeling of friendship that Lily has or if she’s is using me for some end. I have no way of knowing if this is the case.

“The sky is blue.”

Again, whether or not this is true, ‘sky’ and ‘blue’ are linguistic entities. It may be the case that the sky and blueness are transcendent properties of an actually existing, divinely or naturally created world. But these words are subject to the market system and may have been constructed and formed over time to get me to see the world in a particular way for some purpose.

“Philosophy seeks wisdom.”

This, for me, is incredibly problematic. I can produce a Polanyi defeater for it such that the only reason philosophy seeks wisdom is for some kind of material gain. Though Socrates died for the idea that the unexamined life isn’t worth living, it turns out that in our cultural moment–if you’re reading this and understanding it–then we have no way of understanding what he was talking about. We can only think about it in terms of commodity and gain because our thought is economic.

The same goes for this blog post. It’s doomed. Tragically. I have no way of understanding if what I’m writing refers to something in the world or, because I’m looking to gain something from what I’m describing, I’m just using this “reality” as a resource for my own material gain.

That State Religion, A Folk Song

Give me that state religion boys
I’ll memorize every word
Give that state religion boys
I want to be with the herd
I’ll do myself a favor
and be just like my neighbor,
Give me that state religion or I’ll cry.

In the morning I’ll turn on my computer
and stare into the screen
I’ll answer my cellphone
Whenever it may ring
Search my name on Google boys
I hope you’ll find I’m clean
Give that state religion or I’ll cry.

I promise not to read too much
and always put my headphones on
I promise to eat meat for lunch
and always cheer my sports teams on
I promise to send my daughters
to whatever war you want them for
Give me that state religion or I’ll cry.

Make sure I don’t know
what is good for me
and that I can’t tell the difference
between want and need
Make sure I’m only free enough
to keep myself unfree
Give me that state religion or I’ll cry.

Make sure I’m rarely
Among the trees
That I can only see them
From my car and office, please
The only green I should see
is on sustainable plastic packaging
Give me that state religion or I’ll cry.

Make sure that my privilege
Ruins others’ lives
Prevent me from seeing the truth
Make sure I believe lies
Make sure I acquire wealth
At the cost of many strangers’ health
Give me that state religion or I’ll cry.

If I’m feeling a little crazy
Give me some pills that I can take
Refer me to the DSM-IV
So that I may quickly change
I’m done feeling separate
I just want to feel the same
Give me that state religion or I’ll cry.

I’ll go to Walmart and Target
and buy stuff that I don’t need
and when I see commercials
You can bet I will take heed
How the stuff is made I won’t know
but I’ll buy it till I owe
Give me that state religion or I’ll cry

I want to look at Facebook
Every five seconds
To distract me from what I’m doing
and my goals and achievements
Fill my eyes with pretty pictures
and status messages
Give me that state religion or I’ll cry.

I want to be someone’s boss
and I want someone to be my boss
I want someone to tell me
and to tell someone when to floss
I want to be in a hierarchy
Heterarchy’s such malarky
Give me that state religion or I’ll cry.

I do not care
Who’ll teach my kids
I don’t care what they learn
All I want is to work
and earn and earn and earn
I’ll be happy just as long that is what they learn
Give me that state religion or I’ll cry.

I don’t expect this song
Will change a God-damned thing
Bob Dylan, John Lennon, and other folks
Sang about the same damn thing
I wrote it to get it off my chest
I feel like a better slave when I sing
Give me that state religion or I’ll cry.

When I’m about to die
and meet the angel band
Make sure there’s an FBI man there
to hold my sweaty hand
I’d like to see his bright white teeth
That have chewed the world up so
So when I ask him “was this my life?”
He can smile and tell me “no.”

Give me that state religion boys
I’ll memorize every word
Give that state religion boys
I want to be with the herd
I’ll do myself a favor
and be just like my neighbor,
Give me that state religion or I’ll cry.

 

Does This Concern You?

(1) Common Sense

Sitting across from a friend at dinner, I mind my manners. I’m careful not to be late, to make sure I don’t insult him, to make sure his experience with me is pleasant and fulfilling. I do this because I can’t stand the thought that I would be the cause of someone else’s discomfort. If I do feel as though I have created some discomfort, I’m quick to try to repair it with an apology–either written or spoken or in the form of a gift. This also holds for the people sitting at the tables around us. I’m careful not cause them discomfort either.

In general, I try to make sure that I don’t cause others discomfort. To do this I have to be aware of how my actions or words might cause discomfort, amending what I do and say accordingly. I don’t say or do hurtful things on purpose, and I try to reduce the chances that I will do them unconsciously. Obviously the are times when I fail at this, and when I do, as I said above, I try to repair it.

(2) A Suicide

Earlier this year, a chinese factory worker that produces iPhones committed suicide at work. I have no idea why he killed himself. It could have been because of work, his personal life, or some mixture of the two. Let’s assume that his job–the nature of his work–played a role in his despair.

Everyone trusts statistics. Let’s assume that his work played a 40% role in his despair. Not all of it, but a good chunk of it. In other words, his despair was forty percent composed by his feelings about his work.

(3) How This Concerns Me

In September I purchased an iPhone. I went to the Apple store and gave the attendant money in exchange for it. I’d saved this money from my own salary to make the purchase. I wanted the phone for various reasons, which I rehearsed to myself and others to justify the purchase:

I’d like to know where I’m going with GPS;
I can check email, which is good for work;
it’s cool;
there’s a sale going on;
I can have my music, movies, and reading all in one place;
my friends all have iPhones;
I just want it;
etc.

To what extent am I thinking about people like the man who killed himself? When I want the iPhone I don’t consider the lives of the people who produce it, despite the fact that my purchasing the iPhone actively participates in a production cycle that, among other things, caused forty percent of a man’s suicidal despair.

This concerns me because my desire for the iPhone helps create the conditions that caused 40% of someone’s suicide. This concerns me further when I think about the great care I take not to cause discomfort in others.

(4) Theoretical Interpretation: Butler and Grieveability

I take great care to not cause strangers in a restaurant any discomfort, but yet I helped create the conditions that caused a man to kill himself. Why?

Judith Butler, in an interview at Guernica, writes that

All I really have to say about life is that for it to be regarded valuable, it has to be regarded as grieveable. And I think we can see that entire populations are considered negligible by warring powers, so when they’re destroyed there is no sense that an egregious act has been committed…

She said this in response to a question about war, not economics, but there is a disturbing similarity in its principle that applies to my concern here. When participating as a consumer in a market like the market for iPhones, to what extent do I regard the lives of other participants in that market grieveable? In the example of the iPhone factory worker, a life was destroyed. Forty percent of the force that caused the destruction of that life directly resulted from my purchasing an iPhone. To me, this man’s life–and the lives of his colleagues–are negligible. They’re not grieveable. According to Butler (and I agree) their lives aren’t valuable. When I participate in the market, I don’t value the lives of others in that market. I only value what I can get and how much I can get for it.

(5) How This Concerns You

If this is true for me, then it’s true for you to the extent that you participate in markets as a consumer:

Specifically: if you bought an iPhone and didn’t think about this man and his colleagues, then you don’t value their lives.

Generally: if you buy anything and don’t think about the people (and ecologies) that produce them, then you don’t value their lives.

(6) Half-earnest, Half-rhetorical Question To The Reader

Does this concern you?

 

The Beauty of Hipster Porn: Explained.

First I’m going to define ‘hipster’. Then I’m going to talk about pornography, what I think it is. Then I’m going to talk about Jacques Lacan, particularly the analyst’s discourse and the master’s discourse. Then I’ll apply that to hipsters and show why hipster pornography is beautiful.

Hipsters are a group of individuals that believe we are not members of any other group. But hipsters are a group. We end up absurd. We’re absurd because we act as if we’re not members of any group, but yet we do this all together. It’s like that South Park episode where Wendy breaks up with Stan and Stan falls in with the goth crowd and the head goth kid says “if you want to be non-conformist, you have to be exactly like us.”

Pornography. There was the very famous supreme court decision that said “you know pornography when you see it.” To me, you know pornography when you see it because you know when something makes you uncomfortable, when something is dangerous, when something is inappropriate, but in porn this has been made explicit. If all of existence is what is appropriate–because it exists–when you believe something to be inappropriate it shouldn’t exist. But in porn, look, here you have the inappropriate thing existing. So it titillates you. You say to yourself “I shouldn’t be looking at it but I want to look at it more, I’m bad, this is wrong, I want to see more.” There’s something in front of you that shouldn’t exist. You’re confronted with the thing you want to marginalize. This is obviously sexual, but it doesn’t have to be. Porn can be anything from which we derive this odd pleasure: When we know deep down that the line between appropriate and inappropriate is a human fabrication, it’s not really there, that everything is appropriate, and there’s something that delights in undermining the common sense idea that everything isn’t appropriate. Porn can be political, psychoanalytic, cinematic, pedestrian–it could something homeless person does on the street, something that happens at the gay pride parade–it undermines whatever is in the center. It’s explicit. Whatever is in the margins becomes unmarginalized. It’s pornographic when we take pleasure in it.

We, as hipsters, believe that we’re not members of a group–but yet we do this together. And pornography is the marginal unmarginalized, the inappropriate appropriated. The way of explaining why hipster pornography is beautiful is with these ideas, but through Lacan. Specifically, Lacan’s master discourse, which talks about the series of symbols that run like blood through our culture, the river of these symbols. He uses Sausserian linguistics to describe it. Saussure has the distinction between signifier and signified: the former points to the latter, like the difference between ‘tree’ and the brown-green thing in the forest that squirrels climb. It’s the difference between what I say and what I mean.

Lacan sets up power relationships between these. He gives prominence to the signifier. The symbol is what we deal with in culture. The word is more powerful in culture than the thing. The signified, the truth of the world, what actually is, becomes marginalized underneath the signifier. This is the master’s discourse.

The way he reads this: the master signifier is over the barred subject and “affects” or “determines” the slave signifier, which is over the objet petit a. The master discourse describes this flow of symbolism and communications we have with one another. The master signifier is the thing that has the power, it’s accepted, it’s the public, the one we all believe, the one we have prominent in our minds–whatever we think is appropriate. Like, if you’re very religious, then the master signifier will be something like God and the Bible. Or if you’re an atheist-capitalist, in this case the market is the master signifier. Or if you’re crazy about democracy, then the democratic process is the master signifier. Underneath this is the barred subject: what doesn’t get talked about. We’re barred from it. If our master is God, we don’t want to talk about the problem of evil. If God is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnibeneficient, how could God allow evil to exist? This undermines God’s existence. So it’s barred discourse. What if democracy is our master, but the masses don’t know what’s best for us? What if we really don’t really recognize everyone as a citizen? Is that really a democracy? These things, the barred subject, are put in the margins of the master discourse.

These things affect the slave signifier, S2. This is slave knowledge. This is the technical knowledge you have when you follow the master signifier. The appropriate things. The god-fearing person goes to synagogue, attends the regular religious meetings, reads God’s texts, lives a God-fearing life. The democratic person praises democracy, votes, participates in the discourse, does everything expected of a democratic person. It’s what we do to follow. This is over the objet petit a, which is supposed to represent the psychic discharge leftover when the slave is following the master signifier. It’s what happens in my mind when I behave like a slave, what gets put down in the unconscious when I follow S1. This is Lacan’s theory of the unconscious–it’s the repository of what we marginalize when structured by culture. We have all kinds of deviant thoughts, scary thoughts that culture has no language for–that are inappropriate. Like in Donnie Darko, there’s a character Jim Cunningham, a motivational speaker, who talks about how to be a good student and live your life in Love. All the students and teachers (except for Donnie and others), most notably Ms. Farmer the gym teacher and principal, believe in this Cunningham. But what we find out is that Cunningham runs a child pornography dungeon in his house, tapes and tapes and tapes of child porn that he makes and sells. The objet petit a is the child porn, which is the result of the psychic energy he represses in the name of the master discourse he follows.

The other discourse is the analyst’s discourse. Psychoanalysis can help ameliorate the problems caused by the master’s discourse. The analyst’s discourse is every symbol in the master’s discourse turned around two clicks clockwise. So now the objet petit a is over the slave knowledge, and these affect the barred subject which is over the master signifer. So objet petit a occupies the old place of power. We make all that repressed psychic energy, the deviant and scary thoughts, more important than our slave knowledge. All the weird psychic stuff is more important than what we display in public to be appropriate. This set of things imposes upon the barred subject, what we’re not allowed to talk about, which is over the master signifier. Now we’re talking about what we’re not supposed to talk about. The implicit has become explicit. The peripheral is now central.

How does this help us understand hipster porn? A hipster, again, is someone that belongs to a group of individuals that believe they don’t belong to any group. If that’s the definition of hipster, the master signifier will be this paradoxical understanding: if you want to be a non-conformist you have to be like us. The barred subject is that hipsters are a group. That we all do these things together, the S2: skinny jeans, black rimmed glasses, fixed gear bicycles, etc. There’s conformity in this. We don’t want to talk about the fact that we’re members of this group because we’re not supposed to be members of any group at all. This is why no one call themselves a hipster. Nobody wants to talk about being a hipster, which is funny. A lot of hipsters talk about how they’re not hipsters. They use this as a pejorative, when in fact it indicates their membership in the group. The most recent example of this is the N+1 pamphlet about how the hipsters is dead. But if you’re going around saying hipsters are dead then that’s good evidence that you are in fact a hipster. If you’re obsessed, fascinated with, or even fond of saying that hipsters are dead then you probably are one because you don’t want to belong to any group. The only real way to get around it–to claim that hipsters are dead–is to not talk or think about hipsters at all. (How do I do this once I’m in the discourse? you might ask. The answer is to say that you are a hipster. The only way to really not be a hipster is to say you are a hipster. One way of achieving this identification is hipster porn, as I’ll show shortly.)

If S2 is reading Slyvia Plath and going to Urban Outfitters on a fixed gear, then the objet petit a is the psychic output, the residual marginalized by the slave knowledge in the hipster mind. What’s this? If the barred subject is that we’re actually members of a group, then the objet a will be something like what this person is as a member of the group, their acceptance of what hipster means to them, and how they fit and embrace and enjoy that role, how it is a part of their identity, even though their identity should technically be that they don’t have any group identity. The objet a is going to be how it is that I am a hipster. How it is that I belong. What it is that I do and feel and think as a member of the group.

That’s the master’s discourse. The analyst’s discourse will be a relief from the shame of hiding what we’re always trying to hide. There’s a quote from Zizek where he says that Lacan says beauty and shame both mark a limit. If porn is something we feel shameful of because it’s not appropriate, then hipster pornography will be the making explicit of thoughts that identify with the hipster group. All the things that a hipster is, what a hipster thinks about, presented and made explicit. It’s inappropriate for the hipster to think she’s a hipster. So hipster porn is when she takes pleasure in seeing herself as a hipster. Hipster is porn is how we are our selves.

These two co-incide in the photo of the woman with the dream-catcher tattoo: the public self and the private self. They come together. She co-incides with herself. These two are the same thing in hipster porn. What Sartre might have hoped for: the for-itself in harmony with the in-itself, the free self merged with the hardened, objectified self. What’s so exciting about hipster porn is that it speaks to who I am as it speaks to my identification with the group. I want to say that I’m not a member of any group. I want to have the pride of independence from the mainstream. But what I have to recognize is that I’m a member of a group that’s trying to do this, simultaneously wearing the same clothing, reading the same texts, listening to the same music, etc. The result, the dissonance that occurs, when I try not to be a member of any group and therefore belong to the group trying not to be a member of any group, is the content of the website in front of me. The website is the making public of what I feel ashamed about: belonging. It publicly presents me to myself. It is the hipster analyst’s discourse. So I feel a release, this sense of relaxation, and finally relief. I am hipster and not-hipster. I am myself and not myself. Simply: I am. This is truly beautiful.